


Into The Dark

by Diamonddancer229



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Dark Harry, Insane Harry, M/M, Manipulative Dumbledore, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-25 01:01:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2602763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diamonddancer229/pseuds/Diamonddancer229
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry hasn't been the same since the ritual that brought Voldemort back. His magic is darker, his affinity changing, an he is chagrined about the world and all their demands. Will he flee to Voldemort's side to escape?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Not So Average Day

Into The Dark  
By: Diamonddancer229  
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or any of its rights, and I don’t intend to make money from this fan fiction.

 

Chapter 1: A Not So Average Day

Draco was having a rather average Saturday. He had awoken around noon, the Slytherin’s having hosted a rather spectacular party the night before. He had woken with a splitting headache, curtesy of a nasty hangover. Pansy had been waiting at the entrance to the seventh year boy’s dormitories with a headache cure and Pepper up potion, which he had accepted without so much as a thank you.

He has showered privately after chasing any stragglers from the baths, and then draped in a towel, proceeded back to his room to dress in his expensive casual wear for the weekend. Then he had gathered Crabbe and Goyle, Pansy following along with Blaise and Theodore Nott, and headed for the Great Hall for lunch. 

The Great Hall was sparse, few students littering their respective tables, and he noticed with some joy that crazy Potter was once again seated alone, as he generally was now days, looking rather sour and ill-tempered. Draco took his usual seat smirking as emerald green eyes looked up and momentarily caught his, before Potter bared his shining white teeth in a feral sneer and turned back to his lunch.

Some said that it happened after the oh-so-unfortunate Triwizard Tournament, when Potter went off his rocker that was. Draco knew it as the truth because his father, Lucius, had recounted in vivid wonderful detail the happenings of that night. His father had been there to witness the rebirth of the Dark Lord in person. He had been there for the ritual in which Potter’s blood had been stolen from him as the boy hung from a statue tightly suspended by ropes. He’d told Draco of the rather spectacular duel in which Potter held his own against the playful Dark Lord. He’d been there for the boy subsequent rape, in which the Dark Lord stole away the last of the Golden Boy’s innocence. 

Draco had seen the boy’s return with his own eyes. Potter holding the other Hogwarts champion in his slack arms, the Triwizard cup clasped loosely in his bloodied grip, his wand raised in the other hand, the Dark Mark a glaring beacon in the sky. Potter had cast the spell himself, muttering like mad about Voldemort’s return as the field was rushed by aurors and professors. The Golden Boy had been imprisoned for a short time in Azkaban directly after. 

Draco smiled at the thought, it was only fitting after his own father’s imprisonment in that foul establishment. Potter had been returned to Hogwarts shortly after a brief private trial attended by the real Moody, who had been recovered from an imposter, who Draco knew was Barty Crouch Jr. At first it had seemed the boy had recovered from his madness, but it had only taken a few short months after the beginning of their fifth year for the boy to alienate the entire school and his trusty trio after another month. It was clear that Potter was not recovered after his ordeal, and it was clear he had separated himself from Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix for their failure to protect him, and for their desire to make him a weapon against a wizard very much more powerful than him. 

Now Potter roamed the halls like a ghost, barely attending classes, often found in the library’s restricted section researching Merlin knew what. He was a specter of his old self, and he had been branded as a mad man, much to Draco’s delight.

Draco rose from the table after polishing off a sandwich and a glass of pumpkin juice, and made his way out of the hall. Potter, it seemed, had left sometime during his musing of the boy. So it was with some alarm that he found the boy posted up in the hallway leading back to the dungeons where the Slytherins resided, as if he had been waiting there for Draco’s return.

“Malfoy,” the boy murmured not removing his gaze from whatever book he had lifted to his face. 

“Potter! What are you doing here? Did your precious Gryffindors pack you up and send you on your way? Finally tired of your dramatic charades, are they?” Malfoy spat, though he was on guard, remembering the wretchedly Dark curse Potter had nearly disemboweled him with in the bathroom during fifth year. 

Potter glanced at him with those shockingly acidic green eyes, before the boy pushed himself off the wall and snapped his book shut. “I need you to deliver a message for me.”

Draco was genuinely affronted. “I’m not a bloody errand boy, Potter!” He growled and grasped his wand when he saw Potter’s hand flex beside the pockets of his robes, where Draco knew he kept his wand.

Potter mumbled to himself eyes rolling madly as they searched the hall for whoever knew what, reminiscent of Mad-Eye Moody. Then with startling clarity they settled on Draco again. “You will deliver this message for me or I will make you,” the Boy That Lived threatened.

Draco felt unsettlingly fearful for a moment, before anger overtook him. “I most certainly shall not-“ he couldn’t even track the movement Potter made before the boy had him penned to the opposite wall a wand that Draco was not familiar with pointed at his delicate throat.

“You know the benefits of having a second wand do you not? An unregistered wand?” Potter hissed warm breath gusting across Draco’s face. “I can cast the Imperious curse, an unforgivable curse without it being traced back to me. Destroy the wand, destroy your memory of this moment, and send you on your way, to do my bidding no less. Never get caught.”

“Then you lose your unregistered wand, they cost a fortune, surely you won’t risk losing-“

“I know where to find dozens more, hundreds even, right here in this very castle.”

Draco gulped as Potter leaning heavily on his windpipe. “W-what am I supposed to be delivering?”

“A message, to Lucius. A simple thing really.” Harry smiled and it was disarming in regard to their current situation.

“A message about what? What could you possibly have to discuss with my Father?” Draco trembled a bit in Potter’s hold, scared of the repercussions of such a question but curious enough to voice it regardless.

Potter smiled again, but rather darkly so. “A message to give to the Dark Lord.”

Draco felt real fear shiver down his spine, his morning had started so banally only to wind up totally skewed. “Potter, what could you possibly have to say to our Lord?”

Potter released Draco, and drew a slender hand through his unmanageable hair. “Tell your Father, tell him Dumbledore is planning a move that will cripple the Dark Lord. He will destroy things that are…important to Voldemort.” 

Draco tried not to let his mouth gape in an undignified manner at the message. “What things, why should you care Potter? It sounds suspiciously like you are trying to help our side. Why would you go against Dumbledore?”

“What things are none of you concerns, only that in a rather bizarre twist, I am one of those things. They expect me to lay down my life. A life I haven’t had a chance to live. A life that could have been spared so much pain and sorrow, if Dumbledore had kept me here where I belong in the wizarding world. I will not go quietly to my death for the people that betray me time and time again.”

“Are you asking for a truce Potter? Are you trying to join the Dark Lord?” Draco was more than a little curious now, though he couldn’t understand what the bloody hell Potter was on about. 

Harry’s head cocked to the side, and soon Draco realized that Crabbe and Goyle had finally caught up to him, their voices muffled but getting closer. “Your bodyguards,” Potter hissed. “Remember what I told you to tell your father, Draco. Set up a meeting somewhere next week, it’s a Hogsmeade weekend, next week. We can discuss it further later, but I should expect your father to be there as well. This is of the utmost importance, deliver the message when you return to your room.”

Draco heard his friends come around the corner and in the brief moment between looking up to spot them and looking back to Potter, the boy had melded into the shadows and disappeared. Yes, Draco thought to himself, it was shaping up to be a rather odd day.

(Later that day…)

Draco didn’t bother with writing a message, he portkeyed home. With permission from Snape he crept passed the boundaries of the school’s wards and pulled the enchanted ring from the chain around his neck whispering the key phrase to activate the portkey. One minute he was spinning dizzily into space and the next he was in the family’s private receiving room. His Father arrived shortly thereafter, Narcissa Malfoy on his heels, both sporting worried frowns.

“Draco? What are you doing here, is something amiss at school?” His father asked.

“I had to come, I was asked to deliver a message to you for you to give to the Dark Lord.”

“And what might that be?” came a new voice, a threatening hiss of a whisper behind his parents.   
Draco immediately dropped to his knees. “P-Potter wished me to deliver news on Dumbledore.”

Voldemort stepped in front of his parents towering over all of them. “Potter bid you to send me a message about Dumbledore? Whatever for? Stop dawdling child, my patience is sorely lacking.”

Draco gulped staring at the ornate silver threads stitched into the man’s black robes. “Potter mention Dumbledore was planning a move that could incapacitate you my Lord. He was very vague but mentioned things that were important to you, that Dumbledore would destroy these things. He also mentioned he was one of things. He wanted to set up a meeting next Saturday at Hogsmeade, my Father to attend.”

Draco chanced a glance at the Dark Lord to see how the news was received, flinching at the cold flare of magic that oozed from the man before him. Voldemort’s serpentine face was twisted angrily, red eyes glaring at Draco. “Did he say anything else of importance?” the man spat.

“He mentioned that Dumbledore and the Wizarding world, possibly a reference to his friends, had abandoned and betrayed him. He said this after I asked him if he was seeking a truce with our side, if he was turning against them. He’s mad my Lord, not much he said made sense to me, only that he seems angry with Dumbledore.” Draco paused long enough to think very hard on the brief conversation he had with Potter.

“He mentioned he was not willing to die for them also. That Dumbledore had caused him a great deal of pain and that he had not been able to live his life, I’m guessing, because they sent him to live with Muggles instead of keeping him here in the wizarding world after his parent’s death. That was all he said before we were interrupted by other students returning to the dorms.” Draco glanced to the Dark Lord again, the man appeared to be in deep thought over what Draco had spoken about.

“Very well, Draco. Rise and stand with you parents. We should take this to the study for further discussion.” 

Draco rose immediately scrambling to the relative safety of his parents side before his Father began the short trek to his personal studies. Once there his father and mother took the cushy seats before the desk while Voldemort walked around his Father’s ornate desk and sat, hands steepled before his mouth as he continued to think.

After long moments of silence, Voldemort shifted and glared across the desk. “I will of course be at this meeting next weekend. Under guise of course, Severus has a fresh stock of Polyjuice does he not?” He looked at Lucius.

“Yes, my Lord. I believe he employs the use of it often being a spy.”

“Then you shall attend this meeting and I shall need a few strands of your hair Narcissa. I will be going as you, I think this will cause less alarm. Just a casual meeting of the family to passerbys.” 

If Draco’s mother felt alarm at the Dark Lord taking her guise, she showed none. She only gracefully raised a hand to her perfectly coiffed hair plucking three strands without question and produced a small glass vial and stopper to procure them in. Draco was always in awe of how prepared she seemed. She handed them across the desk to the Dark Lord, who smile benevolently on her readiness.

“There remains the problem of course that it will be most unusual should the Malfoy’s be seen conversing with Dumbledore’s Golden Boy. Where we shall meet will need to be relatively secret and we should arrive separately without being seen.”

“The Shrieking Shack, my Lord,” Lucius replied casually. “Severus tells me he had to rescue the boy there once. He told a most peculiar tale of how it was a haven for Remus Lupin, in there time at Hogwarts. The man was a werewolf, as you know, and Dumbledore perpetuated a story that the shack was haunted to keep people away so Lupin would have a place transform without harm coming to the other students.”

“Ah, yes. Dumbledore and his foolish sentimentality. Are you sure no one will chance upon us there?”

“My Lord,” Draco interrupted respectfully. “The students still steer away from the shack thinking it haunted by ghouls and other unknown entities.”

“Yes,” Lucius agreed. “I believe Wormtail often hid there as well during his brief stint as the Weasley brat’s pet rat. A rather loathsome abode, but as good as any for a clandestine meeting.”

“Then we are of an accord. Draco, you will meet with Lucius and me next Saturday at noon for a lunch and we shall meet Potter at the Shrieking Shack around one in the afternoon. You will of course neglect to inform him that I will be your mother in disguise.”

“Of course, my Lord. It will be as you say. I will inform Potter of the meeting.” Draco would have bowed if he were not already seated. He did incline his head respectfully anyways.

“Then the matter is settled,” the Dark Lord smirked a bit ruthlessly. “You should return to Hogwarts before your absence is noted. Lucius and I have business we were attending to.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Draco rose and took the opportunity to bow. He kissed his Mother’s smooth cheek, and nodded to his Father before hastily making his way from the study and the oppressively dark atmosphere of the Dark Lord’s magic. With haste he headed back to the apparition room and apparated back to the edge of Hogwarts. This particularly Saturday had been most peculiar after all.

(Tuesday…)

It was the following Tuesday that Draco finally had a chance to catch Potter without Dumbledore’s spying duo, Weasley and Granger, following closely behind the boy. Potter had been called to stay behind after Potions lesson, and Granger had always been a stickler for making it to the next class on time. Draco was waiting for the wild haired boy when he came out of the classroom. 

“Potter, a word?”

“Yes Draco?”

“Draco now is it? We should find an empty classroom.” 

Potter nodded, mumbling something to himself that Draco didn’t catch, but the boy took the lead. He steered Draco further along the hallway before pulling back a tapestry and tapping the stones beneath it with his wand.

Draco was slightly amazed when they pulled back and a hidden room he hadn’t known about was revealed. He followed the boy inside and watched with a little trepidation as the stones sealed back up leaving them inside a very dark room. Potter muttered something to his right and the room blazed to life, lit by old candles and a great fireplace.

Potter was waving his wand around clearly the room of a thick layer of dust, before taking a seat in front of the fireplace and pointing to a matching chair beside him. “Did you speak to your father?”

“Yes. My Father and Mother are to meet me next Saturday for a quick lunch, afterward we will meet you at one in the Shrieking Shack, to discuss whatever it is you find so important. It would be best we not be seen together of course.”

“The Shack? How quaint. Perfect for the business we must discuss.” Potter nodded agreeably. “I shall be there. I know a way to get there from the school. No one will see me.”

“Are you going to join the Dark Lord Potter? I delivered your message, the least you can do is tell me what you are   
involving my family in. It had better not be a trap.”

Potter smiled his grim smile. “That would be very Slytherin of me wouldn’t it?”

Draco sneered. “It had better not be. If you cause my family anymore strain I will-“

“Kill me? That is in of itself a very hard task. One not even your Dark Lord,” Potter said this somewhat mockingly. “Has been able to achieve. What would you do that hasn’t already been done to me?”

“You are mad Potter.”

“No, right this moment I am quite calm.” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Of course I do,” Potter said in agreement. “I will tell you something then. I know you Slytherins like to receive something in exchange for favors. After the ritual that brought Voldemort back-“

“Don’t say his name!” Draco interrupted angrily.

“I already have and will continue to do so. I deserve the right above all others. As I was saying, the ritual, I am sure you know the one I speak of, seeing as your father was there, did something to my magic.”

Draco waited a few long moments for Potter to elaborate but elaboration never came. “What about your magic?” He   
fidgeted in his seat, most unbecomingly of a Malfoy.

“It changed. My magic that is.”

“And how did it change, you are being quite vague.”

“I don’t have the same affinity for Light Magic as I once did.”

“The ritual changed your magical affinity?” That was most puzzling to Draco. “How can you be sure? It’s quite hard to   
change the affinity you were born with. Especially when you have been using it the majority of your schooling.”

“If you’ll recall I have cast some rather Dark curses at you during my schooling. That one particular curse-“

“Yes, yes. I remember.” Draco shuddered thinking of the time Potter had very nearly killed him. He still had the scars as proof of that curse. It had been very dark in nature.

“It makes me sick to cast anything that isn’t at least vaguely Grey Magic now. Sometimes I find myself unable to even utter a spell if it is too Light based in nature. So I have been practicing Dark Magic for some time now. In secret.” Potter glanced away from the fire and pierced him with those verdant green eyes. I think it’s always been my naturally affinity, from the moment Voldemort’s magic first touched me as a babe I think I have been marked for the Dark Arts.”

Draco watched Potter thoughtfully. “There is the Parseltongue. Is that something residual from his magic too?” 

Potter nodded lifting a slender hand to touch the lightning bolt scar on his head. “Yes, I’ve looked and in no way does our line cross with Salazaar Slytherin’s. It has to do with the things I cannot talk to anyone about though.”

“That’s definitely considered a Dark talent.”

“Yes, everyone’s reaction to it made that perfectly clear,” Harry sneered.

“So you’ve been practicing the Dark Arts. You still haven’t answered my question Potter. Do you intend to join the Dark Lord?”

Potter smiled again, the smile showed far too much of his teeth. “I won’t die to defeat him. I won’t sacrifice myself for the greater good, because the greater good is not worth it in my opinion. The greater good can in fact, be far crueler than Voldemort. I’m thinking about it. I will of course help him stop Dumbledore from destroying his things.”

“Because you are one of his things?” Draco looked at the scar that Potter was still absently fingering.

Potter nodded, withdrawing his hand. “Yes, and Dumbledore fully intended I be destroyed for the greater good, along with the other things.”

Draco sighed, head full of a great many more questions, but he sensed the boy wouldn’t be as forthcoming with any more information, at least not presently. “I should be going, Pansy will be livid at me for missing the study hour before our next class.” He stood brushing the wrinkles from his clothes as Potter watched him.

“Very well. I shall see you and your family Saturday.”

“Good day, Potter.”

“Oh, Draco?” Potter called as Draco stood before the wall that had already peeled back when Draco made his way to it.

“Yes?”

“I supposed I should have considered your hand in friendship back then. Ron is quite the insufferable prat.”

Draco couldn’t help but smile. “I did try to warn you.”

“Call me Harry, it’s been pleasant talking to you. I find most people insufferable now days.”

“Alright…Harry. I don’t mind if you call me Draco either.”

Harry turned back to the fire and Draco admired his profile a moment before he stepped out of the wall and from behind   
the tapestry.

(To Be Continued…)


	2. A Clandestine Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta reader so forgiven me for errors! I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 2: A Clandestine Meeting

(Saturday...)

Lunch had been an awkward affair. It was hard to sit across from the Dark Lord who was pretending to be your mother and carry on small talk. Draco was glad it was over and done and now they, his father and the Dark Lord, were trekking down the winding overgrown path towards the Shrieking Shack. It loomed ahead of them, dark and dreary as the brambly path they traversed. Draco was more than a little creeped out, never having claimed to be that brave after all.

His father pushed aside the creaking door when they came to it and they filed in, him following his father with the Dark Lord at his heels. Draco stopped as his father cast a silencing spell along with more than a few deterring spells, and some spells to make sure they weren’t in fact being ambushed by the Order of the Phoenix. The Dark Lord remained a small diminutive figure in the background, refined and carrying himself very much Draco’s mother would have.

Potter was sitting on a creaky, dusty bed in the very back of the small shack, reading by the light of a floating lumos above him. He barely glanced up when they entered, but his smirked just the tiniest bit. Suddenly his hand rose up to his scar and he hissed. “You brought the Dark Lord with you then?”

Draco jumped just the faintest bit when Potter snapped his book shut, glaring at him. “I suppose you’ll take this opportunity to kill me off then? Pity that, I’ll never tell you what I know.”

“Pot-Harry, what are you on about? It’s just my parents and I.”

“Liar, he’s here. I can feel it you know! The closer he is the more my scar hurts.”

“He’s not-“

“Don’t lie to me. You can’t kill me anyways. You don’t even know what I really am. Where is he then?” 

Lucius, over his bafflement glanced to Narcissa’s pale form before turning to Potter. “You are mistaken, Mr. Potter.”

Harry laughed cruelly, green eyes glimmering in the faint light of his spell. “I’m never mistaken when it comes to this. He is here, he is in this room. I can feel his magic. I’m becoming quite adept at it, one of you is Voldemort!” Harry looked accusingly at Draco. “You set me up, I’ll make you pay littlest Malfoy.”

“See here, Mr. Potter! I will not take it lightly if you continue to threaten my son. After the last incident you ought to have been locked up in Azkaban for nearly killing my son.” Draco’s father had his wand out and pointed at Potter.

“See here, your whelp deserved it.” Potter stalked forward till Draco’s father’s wand was pressed to his breast bone. “You hardly scare me put your wand down. I know no one is allowed to kill me but Voldemort, unless you are him.”

“Silence you foolish boy! You don’t deserve to speak his name.”

Harry Potter laughed somewhat maniacally, before he brushed aside Lucius’s wand with no fear. “It’s not you then. Your magic’s strong but not nearly potent enough. He stepped up to Draco, assessing him. “Nor you, I am going to punish you by the way. You had better watch you back in school, assuming I leave this shack alive tonight.” He turned to Narcissa whose eyes were glowing red like so much blood.

“You then? Have you come to finish the job you started?”

The Dark Lord smirked his own cruel smirk and Draco found it odd and discomfiting on his mother’s face. “My how your talents have grown. You are becoming somewhat more like a wizard a less like a bungling child, aren’t you?”

Harry stared at the Dark Lord, and if he felt fear Draco admired him that he didn’t show it outwardly. “I suspect the information I have is of a rather sensitive nature. You should make your faithful followers leave.”

“I must be losing my touch if you wish to remain alone in an abandoned shack with me.” 

“We have more important things to discuss and I feel that once certain things are revealed you will no longer desire me dead.”

There was an awkward moment of silence in which the Dark Lord stared impassively at Potter while Potter stared back assured of his words. Draco tried not to fidget, the rustling of his robes echoed too loudly in the quiet.

“Leave us.” Narcissa’s pale hand waved through the air, transforming into the Dark Lord’s spidery, long fingered hand. The Dark Lord changed before their eyes as his magic forced away the potion’s effects.

Draco’s hem was discreetly tugged by his father and he was pulled from the room.

 

(The Dark Lord and Harry Potter…)

 

Harry watched Draco leave, the blonde boy passing a disappointed glance backwards before ducking through the spider webs that drifted along the door frame. Moments later they heard the front door open and close with a quiet snick. Harry was alone with Voldemort, his greatest enemy.

The Dark Lord transfigured a rickety wooden table into an impressively throne like chair and took a seat, peering through the dim room to were Harry still stood. He felt strangely devoid of emotion, which he normally did these days, but the voices that whispered so sweetly to him has quieted for once as well leaving his mind startlingly clear.

“I’m listening Potter,” Voldemort hissed. 

“I’m a horcrux,” Harry stated, watching the Dark Lord’s eyes flair at the taboo word. “You made me one that night, when you tried to kill me. You were fresh from my mother’s kill, and a tiny shard of soul broke off into me.”

Voldemort leaned forward listening with avid interest. “Then he is after my Horcruxes? I had hoped I was incorrect in guessing your vague warning. Does he have any?”

“Me, your ring, he thought he had the locket but it was discovered a fake. I found the real one in a cupboard in Grimmauld place, which is the former headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Regulus Black stole it and hid it there I am assuming. He knows of the diary, and he thinks it was destroyed by me in second year.”

Voldemort growled eyes glowing insanely, wand twitching were it laid in his loose grasp on his lap. “It was not then?”

“No, though I didn’t know at the time what it was. Lucius snuck it into Ginny Weasley school books and it possessed her causing her to open the Chamber of Secrets and release the basilisk into the school. Tom Riddle, the Horcrux in the diary was going to drain her of her life down there and bring himself back to life.” Harry paused and moved to the bed sitting down and resting his hands over the book he still carried.

“I went to save her, it’s when I found out your true identity, she had tried to rid herself of the book once and it came into my possession and I talked with Riddle briefly, but it was only when he was trying to kill her that he informed me he was your younger self. To save her I fought off and killed the basilisk and stabbed the diary with one of its fangs that had broken off in my arm when it had bitten me.”

Voldemort rolled his eyes and muttered something about Harry being the answer to immortality with his absolute refusal to die by means that were quite deadly to others. Harry merely laughed and shrugged. “Fate made me resilient, I suppose.”

“Continue, Potter,” Voldemort demanded.

“I was saved by Fawkes tears, or I would have died, and then Dumbledore confirmed the horcrux was indeed gone, I suppose. The diary just that, a book that you had once written your thoughts in. Life continued on as normally as I suppose it will ever get for me for several years. I didn’t know what the diary was back then. It was much later that Dumbledore informed me of Horcruxes.

It wasn’t till after you sent me back from the ritual that returned your body that I began to hear the voices. When my magic began to change. Maybe the darkness of its changing called to the thing inside me. I know what it is now. It’s the horcrux from the diary. It was too strong from the life force it had already stolen from Ginny to be destroyed instead it resisted the pull of the afterlife and found a new host in me. It attached itself the existing horcrux in my scar. Riddle speaks to me often. It’s why they insist I am crazy, though I reckon I probably am to a degree.”

Voldemort was leaning back in his chair and looked deeply in thought. “It transferred itself to you? My first horcrux and my last unknowingly made? Merlin, Potter. You are the bane of my existence.”

“Actually, it would be more correct in saying I am proactive in your continued existence.”

“What of the locket and the ring?”

“I have the locket safely stowed away in the Chamber of Secrets, seeing as no one but you and I may enter. Dumbledore wears the ring. Its curse is taking a toll on the man, his arm is blackened and withered. I think he may know the location of other Horcruxes but he has lost faith in me, in my state of mind.”

“Why have you decided to come to me, your enemy, and give me this information? Just because you wish not to die?”

“Would you not do the same in my position? You strive for immortality, you kill for it. I don’t want to die in a matter of months, maybe a few years if I am lucky. I want to live, I haven’t had the proper chance to live. Besides, as I told Draco, the population of the Wizarding world is far too fickle in their regards of me for me to wish myself harm and most especially death. I wish to live, it’s what I want.”

“Are you proposing a truce?”

Harry leaned forward and smiled. “I suppose so, but just so you know, I consider us equals. I may lack your knowledge and strength but I will not cower before you groveling for you favor. I will never bow before another again.”

Voldemort’s hand tightened dangerously on the arms of the chair he sat in and the man visibly leashed in his notoriously short temper. “I will grant you your freedom, child, but you will concede to my own terms.”

“I must hear them first,” Harry murmured.

“You will never question me in front of my DeathEaters, never disrespect me, or cause them to question me. If you have a dispute with something I say, plan, or propose you will come to me in private. You will act the part always in front of the others, this is something all Slytherins must do, and I am very sure you are more Slytherin than Gryffindor, Mr. Potter. You will also take care in preserving your life, no more rash and foolish half-cocked plans that lead you to the brink of death. You are carrying two of my Horcruxes, and the first is half my soul, do you understand?”

“As I said before, as long as you do not wish me to grovel and acquiesce to everything you say, then I can respectfully request a private meeting to anything I do not agree with. As for the horcrux, I will endeavor not to get into too much trouble, though I will say that will be a bit hard if I joined the DeathEaters on raids. I won’t allow you to put me in some room like some treasure that must be protected. I have kept myself alive this long and I will continue to do so”

“You wish to join the DeathEater raids?” Voldemort asked intrigued and leaning forward again.

“I have some very large bones to pick with a number of individuals. I want a place in this war, Dark Lord. It’s just not the place everyone expects me to take.”

“Is it true that the Muggles kept you locked in a cupboard?” Voldemort whispered cruelly. “That they treated you no better than a house elf?”

Harry held back a grimace of distaste at the mention of his past with the Dursleys. It was fortunate that he was a legal adult and despite Dumbledore wishing him to return there for one last summer after he graduated, the ultimate decision was left to him.

“Is it true your mother abandoned you at that filthy Muggle orphanage,” he countered. He hastily moved out of the way of the Dark Lord’s quickly fired curse. The stream of liquid orange light hit the spot where he had removed himself and burst into flames. Harry put it out with a wave of his hand.

“That wasn’t very sporting.” Harry’s head was searing with pain and beneath the waves of pain that Voldemort’s anger was causing came the telling tickle of the horcrux. ‘Careful Harry, he can cause great pain to you without harming the horcrux.’ Harry shook his head eyes fixed on the man across from him who had risen from his chair and still had his wand aimed.

“Let’s agree then, Mr. Potter that our individual pasts are not up for discussion.” 

“Agreed.” Harry shrugged his shoulders to relax his sharp battle reflexes and moved to the foot of the bed. “We have much more to discuss.” He beckoned Voldemort to take a seat once more.

 

(Draco and Lucius…)

 

Draco paced to his father’s consternation, glancing often to the door of the shack. “What do you think they are doing in there?”

“It’s not our place to wonder Draco. If the Dark Lord wishes us informed, he will do so when he sees fits.

“They’ve been in there forever,” he whined. He glanced at the fine silver watch his mother had given him his last birthday. It had indeed been nearly two hours. He would admit he was a bit worried for Potter, especially when a burst of magic, dark and foreboding had bled through the wards his father had cast upon their arrival an hour earlier. He was fast becoming friends with the Boy Who Lived, and he wanted to see what could come from being close to the often mysterious Potter.

“Stop pacing, it’s unbecoming of Malfoy’s and Slytherin’s alike.” Lucius was sitting calmly on a stump with a cushion transfigured from the moss that had overgrown the top of it. He was examining a sheaf of rolled parchments to pass time.

Draco rolled his eyes when his father’s cold eyes returned to the papers. He jumped when the door to the shack creaked open on its rusty hinges and Potter came through followed by the Dark Lord. He knelt by instinct but regained his feet and awaited any demands.

His father rose from his seat, rolling the parchments back up and stuffing them into his pockets after casting a shrinking charm on them. The tall blonde turned to the Dark Lord and inclined his head. “I trust all is well and you have reached an accord with Mr. Potter, my Lord?”

“Yes. We have discussed much. Draco, return Potter to school safely. Your father and I have many plans we must make in haste to counter Dumbledore’s.” 

“Yes my Lord.” Draco moved closer to Potter waiting for the boy to acknowledge him. “Send my regards to Mother, won’t you Father?”

“Of course,” Lucius replied.

The sharp crack of his father and the Dark Lord’s apparition echoed throughout the eerily quiet forest. Draco glanced at Potter, but the boy looked lost in his own head again. “Shall we, then Harry?”

“Yes,” Potter mumbled. He beckoned Draco to follow him. “I know a shortcut back to the school.”

Draco followed quietly questions burning on the tip of his tongue.

 

(Later that night, Malfoy Manor…)

 

Voldemort sat silently behind the Lucius’s desk recalling his and Potter’s lengthy discussion. He brooded over Dumbledore’s problematic schemes, all the while thinking of the enigma that was Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. It had been a dreadful shock to find out that he had unknowingly made the child a horcrux, and even more of a shock to learn that his very first horcrux had managed to become strong enough to transfer itself to the boy upon the threat of its host’s demise. Though a welcome one it was. 

It also explained quite a bit about his mysterious connection to Potter, his ability to direct images, thoughts, emotions, and even nightmares to him. He would need to do research into the topic further once the boy graduated and was no longer constantly under the thumb of Albus and his Order.

He wondered at the boy’s mental state as well, wondered what things his clever younger self whispered to him from the horcrux, and if it was connected to Potter’s changing magical affinity or if Potter was destined for the Dark the night Voldemort’s magic had first touched him. It was fast becoming a fixation for him, always having loved a good puzzle. 

Potter had always been somewhat of a fixation for him though, he could admit. Now more so than ever after their enlightening talk. Potter was becoming more like Voldemort had fancied himself in his youth, strong willed, inquisitive, dark. The boy had grown remarkably since the night of the ritual, as if the darkness Voldemort had inflicted on him that night had done the opposite of what he had wanted it to do. Potter was blooming into a formidably strong wizard, one Voldemort could see becoming truly unique and honored among his ranks.

Lucius broke his reverie, the blonde knocking quietly at the door before entering with Bellatrix at his heels. “You wished to see Bellatrix, my Lord?”

“Yes, come Bellatrix.”

Bellatrix came at once, always one of his most loyal, most faithful. “My Lord.”

“Do you remember the item I gave you to hide away? Is it still secure?”

“I put it in the Black vaults my Lord. Hid it well in my personal vaults.” Bellatrix fidgeted restlessly. 

“What is the matter Bella? I sense you have something unpleasant to tell me?”

Bellatrix was at her knees in supplication before him before he could blink. “Forgive me my Lord. Lucius has told me of your desire to retrieve the item. However my vaults have been transferred back into the main Black family vaults after they sentenced me to life imprisonment in Azkaban.” She nearly wept from the stress of displeasing him. “Sirius Black had control of the vaults, upon his death he willed them to the Potter brat! Please forgive me my Lord. I thought the thing you entrusted me with would be safest there. Punish me as you see fit, I beg you!”

“That was very careless of you, as careless as Lucius giving my diary to a child when I had entrusted him with its care. It’s lucky for both of you that a new ally has ensured these things remain safe still. Rise Bella, quit your sniveling.”

Voldemort beckoned Lucius pour them all a glass of the fine scotch the blonde kept on a bar to the side of his office. “Potter controls the Black vaults and Potter is now our ally. So the item I gave you is still safe for the time being. I will have Potter find it and retrieve it once he has left Hogwarts. Have you made arrangements to track down the other things I have task you too Lucius?”

“Yes, my Lord. Draco is looking for the things you asked at Hogwarts. The ring will be troublesome though my Lord.”

“Yes, assuming Dumbledore has not already destroyed it. The rest of the things are safely with my grasp already. We will make plans for retrieving the ring from Dumbledore later. I wish to retire for the night. Impress upon your son that his failure will not be taken lightly.”

“Of course,” Lucius bowed at the waist as Voldemort moved to leave the room, taking his scotch with him.

 

(To Be Continued…)


	3. An Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies on the crappy spacing, lost my formatting completely, fixed it once, then abruptly lost it again. I will leave this up for those that want to try to read it with no spacing until I can fix it again.

Chapter 3: Hunt for the Horcruxes

(Harry and Draco, Hogwarts Castle, Tuesday night…)

‘We must find them now, time is of the essence!’  
“I know, I know,” Harry muttered, as he crept along the dungeons in search of Draco. He had a raging headache from Riddle’s incessant demands the past two days. It wasn’t for lack of searching that the two boys had yet to find the horcrux they had been informed of being hidden in the Room of Requirement. It was just the sheer number of hidden things the room contained from all the previous years of students. They had spent much of Sunday and all of Monday night searching through mountains of buried treasures.  
He spotted the blonde coming down the narrow corridor, Draco having already spied him. Harry grimaced as another complaint echoed loudly in his head. Riddle, it seemed, was not overly fond of the youngest Malfoy. Harry hurried along the hall to Draco and cast his cloak over the two of them just as another Slytherin rounded the corner. Harry pulled them against wall, forcing Draco to crouch a bit to be sure the cloak covered their feet from sight.  
The Slytherin, Theodore Nott Harry noticed, passed by unknowingly. Draco was breathing hotly against Harry’s neck, so Harry nudged him a bit allowing the taller boy to straighten. “Let’s go before Mrs. Norris and Filch find us out,” he whispered. It took a bit of effort for the two older boys to walk in tandem so the cloak could cover them, but they managed to make it to the Room of Requirement easily enough.  
When the door appeared after the third pass, Harry pulled Draco inside and cast off the cloak. He stuffed it into the pockets of his robes and pulled his robes off to hang by the door so they wouldn’t be lost in the vast room. “We should get started,” he instructed checking the rolled up parchment from his trousers pocket. They had been strategically marking of the sections of hidden treasures as they sorted through them.  
“Yes, Father says the Dark Lord is growing impatient.” Draco looked green at the thought.  
Harry snorted and moved through the stacks. “Well, Voldemort should come find his own treasures then. Could he have picked a more inconveniently crowded place to put the damn thing?”  
“Potter, be quiet!” Draco always reverted to his last name when Harry mentioned Voldemort by name or otherwise insulted him. Harry thought it great fun to rile the blonde up. “We need to find the diadem.”  
Harry cackled and began shifting through precariously pile trinkets. “You should help me you know. Can’t you sense the infernal thing?”  
“I am-what? Sense it…, what are you on about Harry?”  
“I’m not talking to you,” Harry grumbled. He seized a tiara from the stack before tossing it aside.  
Draco was staring at him again, paused in his search. “Well who are you talking to then?”  
‘Useless Pureblood snob…’  
“Oh hush Riddle! Keep looking Draco. This is your task after all, I merely trying to help you.”  
“You really have gone round the bend Harry. Who is Riddle?” Draco resumed looking through his own pile, but Harry noticed he kept stealing glances at him.  
“Don’t worry about it, and if I was you, I wouldn’t go tossing that name around. You will likely find trouble.”  
“Have you always had imaginary friends Harry? How is it that no one ever suspecting you were as loony as Luna Lovegood?”  
“I’m not loony, and I am hardly anything like Luna. You shouldn’t make fun of her either. She’s quite a remarkable witch. How do you know what she sees isn’t real anyhow? It amazes me when witches and wizards act as dense as Muggles. There is a whole magical world out there. There is no telling what all we haven’t discovered yet, or even things we once discovered but have lost.”  
“Right. Well, you really hear voices then? What do they tell you?”  
“Right now he’s telling me how much of a prat you are. He doesn’t like you, I’m not sure why.” Harry sniggered, Riddle was indeed hissing curses about the blonde in his head. Harry tossed aside another tiara.  
Draco snorted. “I think you’re just using these voices as a cover for saying the truly vile things you couldn’t get away with before.”  
“Draco keep looking, and Riddle deeply resents the implication that he doesn’t in fact exist. You’d better hope he never gets out of my head. It probably wouldn’t mean anything good for you.”  
Rolling his eyes the blonde finally began to search in earnest. 

(Hours later…)

‘Harry! Harry its close. I can feel it! ‘Riddle exclaimed in excitement.  
Harry could feel its malevolent energy tainting the pile he had just began on as well. “Draco! Come over here. It’s somewhere in here! Riddles can feel it.”  
Draco’s headed popped up from around another stack and he rose and hastily joined Harry. “What does it look like again?”  
‘What the bloody hell has the boy been looking for this whole time if he can’t even remember a few simple details?’  
Harry chuckled. “It’s a silver raven-shaped tiara with diamonds in the wings and a big blue stone in its center. You’ll know it when you get close to it. I’m sure you’ll be able to feel it, it will be exceptionally steeped in dark magic. Don’t touch it with your bare hands, there is no telling the curses it may have on it.”  
“Okay,” Draco picked up a plush velvet swath of cloth and placed it between them. “We can wrap it in this.”  
Harry nodded and turned back to the trinkets before him, not really bothering to dig through them, rather he just raised his hands and ran them around the stack about an inch above noticing how the feeling of darkness seemed to dim or intensify. When the magic suddenly spiked Harry, despite his own advice, reached through glittering pile knocking several things down and his hand met with the Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, now Voldemort’s horcrux.  
“I have it!” Harry smiled pulling it out and holding it aloft in the light.  
“I thought you said not to touch it!” Draco hissed.  
“I’m exempt from the rule I suppose. Besides, it’s not cursing me to death yet so I’m fine. I’ll be keeping this by the way. Send your Father a letter saying that we’ve found it and I am safeguarding it with a few of the other trinkets I already have until we next see Voldemort.”  
Harry could tell Draco wanted to complain but the blonde held his tongue. Maybe it was the maniacal grin Harry knew stretched his face and made him look frightfully scary and insane. Or maybe it was the fact that Harry had already tried to kill him once, though it didn’t quite work out as well as he had hoped. Either way, Harry wouldn’t relinquish the diadem. Not with Riddle hissing warning of the blonde’s hopelessness in his ear. Riddle didn’t trust the blonde and he didn’t want Harry to trust him either.  
Draco handed him the velvet cloth and Harry wrapped the diadem inside securing the cloth with a charm and casting multiple protection spells, and notice me not spells. He would take it to the Chamber of Secrets after classes the next day.  
‘Very good Harry…very good. You should make you way to bed now. It’s terribly late and you need your rest…’  
“I should be going to bed.” Harry rose suddenly. Draco nearly toppled over to get out of the way of his quick rising. “Farewell Draco. I’ll see you tomorrow in Potions. Sit by me in class.”  
“Goodnight Harry.” Draco whispered.

(Malfoy Manor, Wednesday morning…)

Voldemort rose early and after taking care of his morning routine, and taking a brief shower, he made his way into the dining room the Malfoy’s partook of breakfast in. The sun rose on that side of the house, and the large windows offering a stunning view of the sunrise, or so Narcissa Malfoy said often.  
“Good morning, my Lord,” Narcissa greeted the second he entered the room. “Lucius shall join us shortly. Some mail came rather early for you this morning. It looked like that Potter child’s owl. The snowy white one.”  
Voldemort spared a few moments to curse the boy’s addled brains for sending such a distinctive well known owl to the Malfoy’s residence. Upon opening the letter however, he was pleased to note it was written in Parseltongue, which looked like squiggly nonsense to others. Curiosity stoke he settled as a house elf set a steaming cup of tea in front of him and began to read the letter.

Hello Old Snakeface,  
I reckoned it prudent to send you an update on the search  
for your blasted diadem. It’s found, Malfoy and I having  
stayed up for the past few nights searching relentless  
through that damnable room. I have stowed it safely  
away with the locket, down in the Chamber of Secrets,  
surely that is a safer place than Malfoy’s trunk in a dorm  
full of sneaky, sniving snakes. After all it’s not like he can  
deliver it by post. As for the ring on Dumbledore’s finger,  
after quite slyly arranging a meeting with the ailing  
Headmaster, I have determined it is still quite active, and  
that he has yet to figure out how to destroy it. I think the  
only way you will see it off his finger is by death. I fully  
volunteer for the honors. Imagine that, I suspect he would  
never see it coming. It only remains to be said, if you agree  
with the plan at all, whether to do it immediately or to  
wait the few weeks till I graduate. It’s of little consequence  
to me.

Best Regards,  
H.J.P. (and T.M.R)  
P.S. I hardly understand why Snape is so dreadfully ill-tempered  
all the time. I find all this double agent spy stuff quite invigorating.  
Oh, and don’t be too mad for the Old comment. You are well up  
there in your years.

Voldemort was very rarely amused these days but he found an odd rough sort of chuckle welling up in his throat as he regarded the letter and the information it contained. Very few people had the nerve to insult him, even though Potter had worded his insults as if they were merely informal words of affections between two friends, instead of two wizards that had been bitterest enemies until a few days ago.  
Such a delightful little mystery his prophesied downfall was. Perhaps Potter was truly insane. The boy was much different than Voldemort had even speculated if murder was on Potter’s agenda. Was the child really willing to kill Dumbledore, who Voldemort had assumed was his mentor of a sort? Most delightful.  
Lucius arrived at that moment, sparing a brief peck to Narcissa’s upturned cheek then seating himself in the chair next to Voldemort at the head. “All is well my Lord?”  
“Why yes, I have had a rather unexpected surprise this morning. The Potter child has informed me that he and your son have the diadem safely stored away. He has also offered some assistance in retrieving my ring from Dumbledore and ridding me of the bumbling old fool.”  
“Ah, yes. Draco informed me by post this morning as well, though I confess he mentioned nothing on Potter assisting with Dumbledore. May I be so bold as to ask just what Potter has planned in those regards?”  
“He believes the only way to retrieve the ring is to murder Albus. He has also mentioned Albus would be more inclined not to see him as a threat even if the old man thinks him mad. It’s quite ingenious really.”  
Lucius, so rarely one to show shock outwardly what with all his pureblood poise, looked just that; quite shocked indeed. “My Lord? Potter has agree to kill Dumbledore? Just like that? Can he be trusted with such a task? Perhaps the boy is stark raving mad, but that is hardly the same as being a killer.”  
“I believe Mr. Potter is a uniquely adaptable person and that he should not be underestimated. Besides, I learned a bit of his familial history, and I understand better why he might be so inclined to turn against the man. Dumbledore should never have put him with his Muggle relations knowing they despised the Potters in that they were wizards. He’s been raising a snake all along, I think.”  
Voldemort paused and slathered a generous bit of marmalade. “It’s no secret that your boy is no killer, Lucius. I know you wished this task upon him, but Draco doesn’t have the stomach for torture and murder. His talents lie elsewhere, it would be best not to force him into a mold he isn’t fit for. One day Draco will have a purpose at my side but I don’t think he is up to killing Albus Dumbledore.”  
Voldemort watched the subtle twitch of Lucius’s mouth, the only outwardly visible sign of his displeasure, and he smiled cruelly. “Besides, I want to see just how far Potter is willing to go.”  
“Of course, my Lord.” Lucius conceded gracefully.

(Hogwarts Castle...)

The Gryffindors and the Slytherins both had a free period that morning and Draco was surprised when Harry met him on his way out of the Great Hall, joining the blonde as he headed out to blow off some steam. His Father had written shortly after Draco knew his parents would be finishing up breakfast to tell him the Dark Lord had been most pleased with his and Harry’s finding of the lost diadem of Ravenclaw. His Father had also written to tell him that his secondary task had been canceled and reassigned to another.  
He was oddly grateful, he hardly looked forward to killing Albus Dumbledore but Draco had the sense that the Dark Lord thought him ill fitted for the job. It was a smarting wound to his pride, even if it was true. So he scowled at Harry but said nothing when the boy fell into step with him.  
“You seem tense, Draco,” Harry Potter said with a great deal of mirth.  
Draco scowled and continued on his way to the lake. Potter chuckled his little mad chuckle. “Don’t tell me you’re mad it’s not as if you were suited to the task.”  
Draco scowled deeper and looked around warily. “Potter, there are ears everywhere. I trust you will take care not to go muttering too loudly.”  
“Oh, its Potter now is it? Are you scared Draco?”  
Draco whirled on the boy beside him. “Are you daft? Of course I am! Why shouldn’t I be?”  
Harry Potter contemplated him seriously for a moment before a thin smile cracked his veneer. “So you aren’t mad about the other then? Forgive me if I seem paranoid, it’s only that my wellbeing hinges upon the issue as well.” Harry was looking at him searchingly.  
No, I’m not mad about any of it, though it stings my pride. You are correct, I am ill-suited for task. I take it you will be taking over that as well?” Draco whispered suddenly.  
Harry grinned. Draco deemed that confirmation enough.  
“And what makes you think you are any better suited? Do you think you will be capable?”  
Harry’s smirking grin dropped abruptly. “Most assuredly.”  
Draco wouldn’t be a true Slytherin or Malfoy if the tone of that voice and the power that resonated in it didn’t stir him to the core of his magical being. For the briefest moment power as black and oppressive as the Dark Lord’s himself pressed down on Draco make his shoulders ache with the weight of it. He wanted to kneel. In that moment he knew instinctually that Harry Potter was a rising Dark Lord. Had they not been on school ground with so many eyes around, he would have fell to his knees.  
Harry’s head cocked to the right minutely, enough that Draco knew he had caught on to his true power and the Boy Who Lived slammed his shields down again. “Don’t lose you composure now, Malfoy,” he warned.  
Then, Harry Potter did the last thing Draco Malfoy could have ever imagined happening in real life. He grabbed Draco by his expensive robe front and pulled him into a searing kiss that tasted of madness and black magic.

(To Be Continued…)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do know this is rather Late, my apologies for the lack of updates. I cannot express my thanks to those that continue to read, like, bookmark, subscribe, comment, and email about any of my fictions. I can not make promise but I have been writing and trying to pick this fiction, and Shattered back up. I am shocked by the sheer amount of kudos and traffic these two fictions have generated even in my absence. 
> 
> Also, I don't have anyone but me proofreading these fictions so forgive me any mistakes. I fix them as often as I find them.

**Author's Note:**

> Well first chapter of a story I’ve been thinking up for a long time. I apologize for any grammatical errors seeing as I don’t have a beta. I wanted to drop a word about Shattered if you have been following that story. I am amazed and thankful for all the good words and the continually growing kudos even after the fact that I haven’t updated Shattered in far too long. I am currently going over the story and my notes on it, I haven’t been able to work on it and will have to get back into the grove of the story. I have not dropped it and hope to have an update sometime in the near future when I have reacquainted myself with it. Thanks for all your support!


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